


Hard Day's Night

by TheMeaningofHaste



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: M/M, Porn with some plot, Star Spangled Exchange, gift exchange fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-29
Updated: 2014-06-29
Packaged: 2018-02-06 18:44:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1868370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMeaningofHaste/pseuds/TheMeaningofHaste
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Bucky had taken to watching the cooking channel since he had moved in, determined that he would finally learn to cook. Since he still refused to join the team he had taken on the domestic role with pride. Besides, the amount of food they had access to now was too obscene to have no know-how in the kitchen."</p><p>or Bucky tries to make Steve a birthday cake and Steve is really appreciative.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hard Day's Night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aoboobarnes](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=aoboobarnes).



> This is for aoboobarnes, so go find her on tumblr! She asked for domestic Bucky and Steve so I hope this counts!  
> Enjoy!

     Steve let out a deep sigh as he trudged slowly up the last few stairs to his apartment. The team had been called out when a small army of robots threatened the city- again. They had been holed up in the Avengers tower when they weren’t actively fighting for over a week and now that it was over all he wanted was to sleep in his own bed in his own Brooklyn apartment.

  
     As his hand reached out for to fit the keys in to the lock he heard a loud crash that had him on edge again. The crash was followed by several smaller ones as well as a long string of curses. Steve felt the tension drain back out of him. It was just Bucky, probably trying his hand at cooking again. The muffled sound of the television in the background told him that he was right. Bucky had taken to watching the cooking channel since he had moved in, determined that he would finally learn to cook. Since he still refused to join the team he had taken on the domestic role with pride. Besides, the amount of food they had access to now was too obscene to have no know-how in the kitchen.

  
     When the door swung open Steve had to bite back a laugh. To say the kitchen was a wreck would be an understatement. The sink was overflowing with what appeared to be every dish and utensil they owned. The counters and floor were covered with a fine powder that Steve sincerely hoped was flour.

  
     “Turning the stand as you smooth the edges will make the icing process as easy as pie! Well I guess I should say cake!” The woman on the television chuckled at her own bad joke. Set up on the small island in the middle of the kitchen with his back to Steve, Bucky grumbled what was no doubt an insult as he poked at something. Steve leaned against the edge of the doorway, taking a moment to enjoy the reminder of just how much his life had changed.

  
     “Fucking shit fuck,” Bucky grumbled again. His metal arm was holding a recipe book in a death grip and he seemed to be trying to figure out where he had gone wrong.

  
     Pushing himself back up, Steve closed the door behind him, careful that it was loud enough to announce his presence, and dropped his pack on the floor. “Having a few problems Buck?”

  
     Bucky turned around and tried to use his body as a shield to block Steve’s view of whatever was on the counter behind him. “One or two,” he admitted, his lips quirking.

  
     As he walked closer Steve couldn’t hold back a grin. Bucky’s dark jeans were covered in what looked like flour handprints. His hair stuck out at odd angles where it looked like he had run his hand through it in frustration one too many times and a smear of what had to be blue frosting ran across his forehead. Steve was suddenly certain that he had never seen anything more adorable in his life.

  
     “Anything I can do to help?” Steve stood just inches in front of Bucky, his hand reaching out to wipe off the frosting. Bucky blushed when he saw the blue and then for an entirely different reason when Steve sucked it off his thumb.

  
     Bucky cleared his throat, unable to tear his gaze away from Steve’s mouth. “No, I’m good here. I’m sure you want to clean up though. Go on. You smell. Shoo.”

  
     Steve grinned, leaning forward to press his lips softly against Bucky’s. The other man melted in to his touch before pulling back. “Go shower so I can finish in here.”

  
     Steve groaned and placed another small kiss on the corner of his mouth before turning towards the bedroom. “Fine but whatever you’re doing better be worth it!”

  
     Bucky rolled his eyes and turned back to his project.

  
XXX

  
     Steve took his time in the shower, letting the hot water pound down on his aching muscles. Super soldier or not, a week of fighting could make a guy sore. He slipped in to his favorite sweat pants and the ridiculous Captain America t-shirt that Bucky had bought him- he would never admit just how much he actually liked it.

  
     When he made his way back to the kitchen the television was off and music streamed from their stereo. They were slowly making their way through what Sam and Clint insisted were the highlights from each decade they had missed. They were currently in the middle of the 1960’s.

  
     ‘It’s been a hard day’s night; I should be sleeping like a dog. It’s been a hard day’s night; I should be sleeping like a log. But when I get home to you, I find the things that you do will make me feel alright.’

  
     Steve smiled at the lyrics as he sat down on a stool to lean on the counter. Bucky was scrubbing at his arm in the sink, muttering something about sugar getting into every crack available and Steve found that he was more than happy to just watch. Bucky finally turned around to grab at a towel, the scowl on his face fading away when he saw Steve sitting there. “Stop making puppy eyes at me,” he grumbled as he dried his hands.

  
     “Sorry.” Steve held his hands up in apology. “Care to show me what you trashed our apartment for?”  
Bucky fidgeted nervously at the suggestion, his gaze shifting over to the refrigerator. He was always a little apprehensive to show Steve what he had cooked; never convinced that it had turned out right. Steve leapt up and was opening the door in an instant. He held the door open and paused. Sitting on the middle shelf was a small cake, or at least Steve thought it was a cake. It was leaning slightly to the left and covered with what appeared to be red, white and blue frosting.

  
     He pulled the platter out with a grin. “Buck, what did you do?”

  
     Bucky played with the fraying ends of the dishtowel, refusing to meet Steve’s eyes. “I made you a cake dumbass.”

  
     “Why?” Steve sat it down on the cleanest spot of counter space he could find and pulled out plates for each of them. He loved when Bucky cooked, and nine times out of ten whatever he made was delicious.

  
     Bucky stared at him for a minute like he was an idiot. “It’s your birthday,” he said slowly, like he was talking to a small child.

     Steve glanced at the calendar on the fridge. “Oh shit it is!”

  
     Bucky’s jaw dropped in amazement before he collapsed into a fit of laughter. “How did you not realize that it was the freaking Fourth of July?”

  
     “Well, I was kinda busy what with the whole saving the world thing.” Steve felt his cheeks heat up. He hadn’t have much of a reason to celebrate his birthday since waking up in a strange century and the fact that it was Independence Day had completely slipped his mind in the chaos.

  
     “The red, white and blue decorations fucking everywhere didn’t tip you off?” Bucky grasped at the edge of the counter as he tried to calm his giggles. “I mean hell Stevie, you can’t get more than two feet out there before you run into a flag.”

  
     “I figured people were just feeling especially patriotic,” Steve mumbled. He grabbed a pair of forks from the drawer, now fully intending to eat the cake. If only to get Bucky to shut up. “I still can’t believe you made me a cake.”

  
     Bucky’s laughter faded as he caught his breath. “Well I had to do something for my best guy’s birthday.”

  
     Steve felt his heart swell. “No one has ever made me one before. Ma couldn’t afford to before she died and then,” he waved his hand as if to say, and then no one was around to care.

  
     A soft smiled spread over Bucky’s face before he turned to grab a pack of candles. “Well I guess I have a lot of years to make up for.” He began to place the small sticks into the cake until he started to run out of room. He struck a match and lit them all quickly before presenting the cake to Steve. “Make a wish Stevie.”

  
     Steve looked down at the cake and then up to Bucky’s face which was glowing in the light of so many candles. “There’s nothing else I need,” he whispered before blowing out the candles.

  
     Bucky groaned, but the smile never left his eyes as he made his way around the counter to Steve’s side. “You’re such a sap Stevie.”

  
     Steve grinned and pulled him down into a heated kiss that left them both breathless. He pulled back and began to kiss down Bucky’s neck, licking and nibbling gently at every spot of sugar he found. “You want me to show you what I really wished for?”

  
     Bucky let out a breathy moan as he arched in to the touch, one hand fisting in Steve’s hair while the other traced down his spine and up under his shirt. “Fuck yes.” Steve let out a low chuckle that rumbled in his chest under Bucky’s finger tips. He let his hands slip lower to knead the muscle of Bucky’s ass and he ran his teeth over his collarbone. Bucky groaned, rolling his hips forward in search of contact. Steve pulled him closer, lifting him up and wrappings Bucky’s legs around his waist. Bucky wrapped his arms around Steve’s neck; fairly certain that he would never get used to his best friend being strong enough to lift him like this.

  
     Despite Bucky’s attempt to be as distracting as possible, Steve got them in to the bedroom quickly and dropped the brunet down on to the bed before stripping off his shirt. Bucky eyed him appreciatively for a moment before making quick work of his own clothes. In a flash Steve was back on him, pushing him back against the bed as he began to explore every inch of skin that was now so deliciously on display.

  
     Bucky jerked his hips in surprise when he felt a soft tongue lick slowly up his cock before sliding teasingly over the tip. “Shit,” he gasped, fisting a hand in the soft blonde head of hair that was working between his hips. Steve wrapped his lips around the head and sucked gently as he let a finger trail slowly down the cleft of his ass. “There’s no way you wished that you could give me a blowjob for your birthday Steve,” he grunted, hips lifting off the bed in search of more. “You can do that any day.”

  
     Steve pulled off him with a grin. “What more could I want than a gorgeous man writhing around above me moaning my name?”

  
     Bucky let out a soft curse as he pushed himself on to his elbows so he could get a better look at Steve. “Well in that case, I hear that birthday spankings are now a tradition,” Bucky said with a smirk. A mischievous glint shown in Steve’s eyes at the suggestion and he was quickly pulling himself back up on the bed.

  
XXX

  
     After a few rounds of what Steve could only describe as the best birthday present ever, they lay panting on the bed; Bucky sprawled across his chest. Steve let his fingers run through Bucky’s hair, scratching at his scalp lightly in the way he knew the other man loved. His efforts were rewarded by a content sigh as Bucky snuggled further in to him. “Do you think you would be up to going to the fireworks tonight?” Steve whispered, not wanting to disturb the peace.

  
     “Of course, you punk,” Bucky said, resting his chin on his hand so he could look Steve in the eye. “Like I could ever forget how much you love the fireworks show.”

  
     Steve smiled at the memory of them sitting up on the roof of their old building every year, watching as the fireworks went off in the distance. “I used to think they were just for me,” he admitted.

  
     Bucky snorted. “Yeah well, you always were a dumb kid. But first you really do have to eat some of that damn cake.”


End file.
